Five Second Resolution
by Evening Edition
Summary: Still he was going to give it five more minutes. There was a chance that he’d be there. Slash. Oneshot.


Notes: I hope everyone enjoys this. I actually wrote this for last year, but never got around to finishing it because I ran out of ideas. I know that it is a bit fluffy, but with how I wanted this to end, it served its purpose. All in all I really like this story.

I do accept constructive criticism, but no flat out flaming please.

The last hours of New Year's Eve were long ones. In a house standing behind the local park, a single figure was sitting on the bench placed in front of it. Blond hair fell into his eyes, but he ignored the sight that usually annoyed him. The strands played in front of his glasses, some traveling behind the glass.

He sat…hands in his lap, head down, thumbs pressed against the bridge of his nose in order for him to concentrate on his thoughts. He swung his feet under him, repeatedly hitting against the wooden seat. His eyes glanced up at every sound: cars passing by, voices traveling closer to the house as more guests arrived, but the one person he wanted to see was never there.

He tried to ignore the laughter, talking and bright lights from inside, but found it hard when he felt so alone. He wanted to join in, to be there to watch the television when the ball dropped, but he just wasn't into the spirit of things that day.

"Hey Dutchy," a voice greeted him. It was Race, not specifically the guy he was looking for, "You doing all right?" He stepped out of the house, closing the door and muffling the noise behind him.

Normally, anyone would find this exchange odd. Race actually being consciously nice to someone? Truth was, Race was one of few who knew what Dutchy was going through. A close as best friends could get, the two couldn't look more different, with Race's dark hair and appearance compared to Dutchy's lighter looks. Their personalities clashed as well: Race's sarcastic nature to Dutchy's happy look on life.

"He said he'd be here," Dutchy replied, "I'm going to wait a little longer."

"Okay," Race shrugged, "It's 11:30 though Dutchy. Let's hope he gets here soon." Dutchy could only nod his agreement with that statement. Race turned to go back inside.

"Race," Dutchy stopped him, then paused, "How long did it take…well, you and Spot before you found out your feelings?" Race immediately brightened at the mention of his boyfriend of ten months.

"It takes a while sometimes," Race told him, "I think it might have been during last Valentine's Day…you know, when Spot didn't give out a single card to a girl? He only gave one to me."

"He used to give them out like…well…Christian tracks ," Dutchy let out a little laugh, "I don't think I ever saw him so embarrassed then when he gave that Valentine to you."

"I'm sure he got over it," Race laughed along, "but I'm sure that both of you will figure it out too. I don't think it'll be that long."

"You should go back inside," Dutchy turned to Race, "If I know Spot, he'll be looking for you." Race nodded with a smirk of amusement on his face before disappearing back inside.

Dutchy was alone once again. The only light came from behind the windows and the light that was just outside the door. He looked down at his watch: 11: 40 PM. It looked like he wasn't going to show up after all. Still he was going to give it five more minutes. There was a chance that he'd be there.

Voices drifted to his ears and he tried to ignore the sounds once again. He looked to the noisemaker that he had placed on the bench beside him. Without anything else to pass the time, Dutchy picked up the toy, twirling it out slowly at first but picking up speed after a minute. At least it helped to drown out any other sounds.

The occasional car drove by, but after five minutes without sign of him, Dutchy stood to his feet, throwing the noisemaker to the side. His friend obviously wasn't going to show. He sighed and attempted to laugh at himself because of his optimism, but his laughter was hollow. Dutchy knew very well that he wouldn't make it. Since when was he ever on time anyway?

He trudged back inside his house, reluctantly welcoming the bright lights and laughter he had been trying to ignore only minutes earlier. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. The television was set for the correct channel, the live broadcast from New York waiting for the perfect moment.

Dutchy sat down on the couch and mulled over some earlier thoughts. He had refused to make a New Year's resolution before, but maybe he should have rethought that decision. It surely couldn't hurt to have one small goal for the next year that would make Dutchy feel like he had accomplished something. He thought for a couple of minutes, knowing what his resolution would be but not wanting to admit it, afraid that saying it aloud would jinx the entire thing.

Dutchy was so deep in his thoughts that he barely heard the sound of the doorbell ringing. Even then, he motioned for somebody else to answer it and was mildly surprised when Race went to the door. The countdown was about to start and Dutchy knew that Race would take any excuse for public displays of affection. However, Spot had a smirk on his face when Dutchy glanced over at him, a sure sign that something was going on.

"Sorry I'm late," a voice said in Dutchy's ear, "They wanted me to stay late at work. I thought I wasn't going to make it in time."

Dutchy turned to the source of the voice quickly, having been startled from his thoughts. A face with eyes framed by glasses and with brown hair brushed hastily looked back at him. A slight pink tinge was on his cheeks, acknowledging that he must have ran all the way from his house three streets down. Dutchy moved over to make room for Specs on the couch. His friend sat down gratefully, leaning back heavily on the cushions.

"Ten," Race started the countdown along with the television, winking at Dutchy as he walked passed. Dutchy glanced from the set to Specs sitting next to him. He clearly understood what Race was implying.

"I'm glad you got here before the countdown," Dutchy spoke hurriedly, wanting to get it all out before the clock reached zero.

"Why," Specs asked breathlessly, turning to him.

"So I would have an excuse to do this." The group was chanting "three" as Dutchy leaned forward and pressed his lips against Specs' own.

As the countdown concluded, Dutchy could almost imagine that the cheering was for him instead. He pulled away slowly and waited for Specs' reaction.

"Was that your New Year's resolution," Specs questioned after a moment.

"Yeah," Dutchy didn't look up to meet Specs' eyes.

"Mine too," Specs laughed. Dutchy finally glanced up, surprise taking over his features.

"I guess we'll have to think up new ones now," Dutchy found himself joining in the laughter, "Wow, right at midnight too."

"We didn't even last five seconds."


End file.
